ncisco soon as they. He
confides to them the secret of his having chartered the Chilian ship--in
short, telling them all he has told her captain--echoing the lament made
by the latter about his difficulty in obtaining a crew.

"Perhaps," rejoins Crozier, after hearing this, "I can help your skipper
to at least one good sailor. Do you think, Will," he continues,
addressing himself to the young Welshman, "that Harry Blew is still in
San Francisco, or has he gone off to the diggings?"

"I fancy he's still here," responds Cadwallader. "He was aboard the
frigate only the day before yesterday--having a shake hands with his old
comrades of the forecastle."

"Who is the Senor Bloo?" inquires their host.

"A true British tar--if you know what that means, Don Gregorio--lately
belonging to our ship, and one of the best sailors on our books. He's
off them now, as his time was out; and like many another, though not
better man, has made up his mind to go gold-seeking on the Sacramento.
Still, if he be not gone, I think we might persuade him to take a trip
on the craft you speak of. It was once Harry's sinister luck to slip
overboard in the harbour of Guaymas--dropping almost into the jaws of a
_tintorero_ shark--and my good fortune to be able to rescue him out of
his perilous plight. He is not the man to be ungrateful; and, if still
in San Francisco, I think you may count upon him for taking service on
board this Chilian vessel. True, he's only one, but worth two--ay, ten.
He not only knows how to work a ship's sails, but on a pinch could take
a lunar, and make good any port in the Pacific."

"A most valuable man!" exclaims Don Gregorio; "would be worth his weight
in gold to Captain Lantanas. I'm sure the Chilian skipper would at once
make him his mate. Do you suppose you can find him?"

"If in San Francisco, yes. We shall search for him this very night;
and, if found, send him either to the Chilian skipper or to the
shipping-agent you've spoken of--Silvestre. By the way, what's his
address?"

"Here," answers Don Gregorio, drawing forth a card, and handing it
across the table to Crozier. "That's the place where Don Tomas
transacts business. It's but a poor little shed down by the beach, near
the new pier, lately constructed. Indeed, I believe he sleeps there--
house-rent in San Francisco being at present something fabulous."

"This will do," says Crozier, putting the card into his pocket. "If
Henry Blew can be